In Missouri, a perennial swing state with a deeply divided electorate, it has long been one of the politically delicate calculations a candidate can make.

The question is not what position to take on abortion, economic stimulus or health care, though those issues have all proved thorny enough. It is how to pronounce the state name: “Missouree” or “Missouruh.”

Gov. Jay Nixon, a Democrat who is running for re-election, has endured accusations of flip-flopping for using both phrasings at a virtual one-to-one ratio, sometimes in the same sentences, a trait that prompted a former spokesman to call him “oratorically ambidextrous.”

His opponent, Dave Spence, a Republican businessman, said he is more consistent, exclusively using the Missouree pronunciation. But the campaign has also hedged: a biographical video features his wife saying “he’s going to be a great governor for the state of Missouruh.”

Senator Claire McCaskill, a Democrat in one of the most closely watched Senate races, typically uses Missouree in her advertisements. But when outside conservative groups sponsored attack ads in February, her campaign responded with spots that use the other pronunciation.

The campaign of Todd Akin, the Republican congressman running against her, called using both pronunciations “cheesy” even though he has waffled himself, saying “Missouruh has a choice” when he announced his candidacy.

And the differences extend to the top of the ticket. Mitt Romney, who is favored to win Missouri, asked the crowd at a campaign event in the state during the primary race, “How many say Missouree like I do?” President Obama has favored Missouruh in his appearances.

Photo

Gov. Jay Nixon has been accused of flip-flopping for pronouncing the name of the state both ways.Credit
Sarah Conard/Reuters

The debate serves as a low-stakes case study for the age-old art of political pandering — that alternately endearing and condescending process of cultivating the “just like you” appeal that remains a central part of running for office. Other linguistic examples include presidential candidates dropping g’s before Southern audiences or changing the cadence of their speech before black audiences.

There are states where locals cringe at mangling by outsiders or where regional accents signal deep local roots (New Yawk and Loo-si-ana) but Missouri is the only state where there is fundamental, if mostly good natured, disagreement about saying the state’s name.

Scholars believe the name Missouri — however it is pronounced — comes from a word the Illinois Indians used to describe a neighboring tribe: “one who has a canoe.” But historical reasons for the split have been a matter of considerable debate among linguists and historians.

Some believe it started as an east-west split, with St. Louis favoring “ee” and Kansas City “uh.” Popular belief holds that the southern half of the state is “Missourah,” with Highway 70 serving as a sort of Mason-Dixon line, and still others contend that “Missouree” is city, “Missouruh” is country.

Increasingly, however, the divide is not geographical but generational.

“The Missouruh pronunciation carries a degree of stigma as incorrect or at least old-fashioned,” said Matthew Gordon, an associate professor of English who studies linguistics at the University of Missouri. “So many young people may avoid it even if they come from families in which the older generations used that pronunciation.”

Yet there is one demographic group that cannot seem to scrub the Missouruh name from their speech.

“A high percentage of our politicians say Missouruh,” mused Lyle Anderson, the mayor of Lebanon, who prefers the other construction.

Such politicians include, historically, President Harry S. Truman, a Democrat, and more recently, former Senators John Ashcroft and Christopher S. Bond, both Republicans. Today, most of the state’s top officials stick mostly to “Missouree,” but they sprinkle the other ending into the occasional speech, especially when they’re introducing themselves or speaking to rural audiences. Strategists say that’s just good Missouri manners.

Photo

Senator Claire McCaskill, too, has taken a firm stand to sit on the fence about how to pronounce Missouri.Credit
Sarah Conard/Reuters

“It’s almost like a courtesy, when you’re in somebody else’s home, to relate to them,” said Steve Glorioso, a Democratic consultant in Kansas City who has advised those on the stump to adjust the pronunciations to match the audiences.

Jeff Roe, a longtime Republican operative in the state, said he has never discussed pronunciation with a Missourian candidate, but advises those from out of state: “Stay safe and say Missouruh.” (Indeed, in the Senate race, most of the television ads using the soft vowel, known to linguists as a schwa, come from national political action committees.)

Mr. Nixon, a moderate Democrat, whose policy positions sometimes reflect the same try-to-please-everyone approach as his use of the state name, is favored to win a second term. And in one of the country’s most competitive Senate races, Ms. McCaskill has struggled to pull away from Mr. Akin, despite his comments about “legitimate rape.” There have been occasional, fruitless, efforts to end the debate over the state name. In 1907, a resolution introduced in the state House to establish the “only true pronunciation as that received by the native Indians” — a third way, Mih-SOO-rih — failed by voice vote. In 1970, Gov. Warren E. Hearnes announced to some fanfare that both pronunciations are correct. In 2002, as secretary of state, Matt Blunt polled visitors at the Missouri State Fair about how to say the state name, with Missouree winning in a landslide.

An error has occurred. Please try again later.

You are already subscribed to this email.

It remains unclear what, if any, weight voters put on hearing their preferred pronunciation of the state’s name. Many Missourians insist they couldn’t care less. But politicians rarely turn down an opportunity for an edge.

Ms. McCaskill, who was mocked years ago for recording separate campaign advertisements for different parts of the state that featured the different pronunciations, still switches back and forth. But her campaign was eager to pass off the changes as accidental, releasing a statement saying she “always” used both. “Over-thinking it just gets you into trouble, so we don’t,” the statement said. “It all comes naturally.” Governor Nixon, meanwhile, endured some gentle chiding after his inauguration, when he pledged to defend “the Constitution of the state of Missouree” and the “office of governor of the state of Missouruh.” He jokingly acknowledges that he can’t keep it straight.“When you spend as much time as Governor Nixon does in every corner of the state,” said Sam Murphey, a spokesman, “you really don’t pay much attention to this sort of thing.”

His Republican challenger, Mr. Spence, disagreed: “People can see through insincerity from about 150 yards.” He added that he would never change his “Missouree” pronunciation for political gain.

But he confessed that he only realized that his wife of 22 years said “Missouruh” after his campaign began.

“I’d never even noticed that she did that,” Mr. Spence said.

Dan Gill contributed reporting from Sedalia, Mo.

A version of this article appears in print on October 13, 2012, on Page A1 of the New York edition with the headline: Missouree? Missouruh? To Be Politic, Say Both. Order Reprints|Today's Paper|Subscribe